Valen extracted himself from the child’s mind, pulling away from the cell door and back out into the hallway of his castle. He took a few steps farther, whistling to himself, his cloak dragging soundlessly across the stones behind him. The cold kissed his cheeks, and he felt alive.
Electric.
When he was doing this work, he mattered. No one disobeyed him. No one dared to defy him, for how could they, beneath the weight of his compulsion?
He picked another cell door.
An elderly man stood at the bow of a hovercraft, the glistening silver ship soaring just above the surface of a flat, motionless sea. The terraformed water sector of Adhira. Valen had always wished to visit, and now he could, through the mind of this man.
“We’ll find it today, won’t we, Oyneko?” a voice asked.
The old man turned, and Valen saw as he saw. A young Adhiran man, skin purple and smile bright, held a torpedo-shaped camera in his hands. He wore a gray work suit, salt stains crusting around the collar from his sweat.
“If the Godstars shine their light on us today, then perhaps we will,” the old man said. “There were hundreds of varillium ships lost in this sea during the war. If we can find them, Rantyi, we’ll have served the queen in a way few ever could. She’ll finally be able to finish building Nexus.”
“All hail the queen,” the young Adhiran said, then tossed the camera into the sea.
Valen whispered his compulsion into the old man’s mind, pressing in the desire to serve Nor. Igniting a hunger to keep working until he uncovered the lost varillium for Nexus. Then he pulled himself away from the old man, back into the castle halls.
Valen didn’t know how long he spent pressing thoughts into minds, compelling them to stay loyal, to stay true to his sister’s reign. Time moved differently inside his mind fortress.
Usually, Valen’s energy heightened in this space. But as he worked today, he found himself beginning to grow tired. He walked more slowly, stopping often to catch his breath as he passed by aisle after aisle of cells.
Then he heard the faintest echo of a whisper resonating throughout the castle. A little tugging on his thoughts, from far off.
“Nor?”
The sound of her name was labored on his lips—though he shouldn’t be breathless, shouldn’t even feel the need to breathe. For here he was all mind, no body.
And yet he felt heavy, as if weights were tied to his limbs.
Valen turned, a sigh pulling at him, and headed back toward the front doors to his castle. He’d just made it to the threshold when the torches behind him began to gutter out. His vision dimmed, dark spots appearing before his eyes...
And then he found himself waking up, lying on his back in Kalee’s garden, blood crusting the skin beneath his nose.
The sky above was dark, the twin moons blinking down at him as if they’d been watching. Valen sat up shakily, his head throbbing with the awful, persistent headache he hadn’t been able to shake in days.
“Valen.”
This time, he was certain he’d heard Nor’s voice. The ghost of it, perhaps finally reaching him now that he was back from the depths of his mind castle. But when he prodded at the doorway that linked them, he couldn’t find any trace of his sister.
Just the lingering feeling of fear.
Something had gone wrong, while he’d been away.
Valen stood up, head throbbing with the effort. He wiped the blood from beneath his nose as he headed toward the mansion, eager to find his sister. To make sure she was alright, and to tell her what had just happened—how for a moment, he swore his power had flickered.
Like a dying star.
CHAPTER 11
NOR
Nor couldn’t shake the chill in her bones, even with the roaring fire in the marble fireplace of Averia’s great room. The walls around her were gilded in gold, the ceiling stretching high into a towering dome. The Godstars were painted there, likely meant to be a comfort to anyone who found themselves lying on one of the plush couches, staring up as they lost themselves in their thoughts.
But tonight, Nor felt like the Godstars were glaring down at her. Just waiting for her to fail in the mission laid before her, broken now in the shadow of the unnamed general who’d taken her rightful place.
“We’ll figure it out.” Zahn’s voice drew Nor’s gaze from the shining ceiling and back toward the fireplace, where he stood before the flames, his muscular arms crossed. “For now, you may as well rest. Give yourself time to gather your strength for the days to come. You’ll be no good to anyone exhausted.”
Nor sighed and lifted a hand for him to help her from the couch. “I can’t rest, Zahn. Not until we uncover the fool who has control of this galaxy. Nothing is relaxing when you feel as if your chest is wound so tight, it might burst.” All she could think of, all she could see, was the hellish red armor of Arachnid, coupled with the faceless, ghostly form of whoever had stolen her command of Mirabel’s weapons.
Who was behind that mask?
Worse still...who was the General of Arcardius, now that Cyprian Cortas was gone?
The last place Nor had seen the awful man was on the stage of the ballroom, during the Ucatoria Ball. He’d been bleeding out, at the end of his lifeline, thanks to Valen’s blade. Had it been in his final moments that he’d passed the power on to someone else? Or had he set it in motion long before? Had all the leaders known upon their deaths, as they let Nor slide a blade across their own throats, that the galaxy would not fully belong to her once they were gone?
Was she truly a queen, when she felt as if someone else was wearing her crown?
“Nhatilya,” Zahn said, effortlessly lifting her from the couch and guiding her closer to the flames. Her arms, bare without her cloak, were covered in gooseflesh. She hadn’t realized how cold she was. Zahn ran his fingertips across her skin, smooth and strong as he pulled her close, trying to chase the chill away. “You’re shaking.”
He held her tighter, and she leaned into him, wishing she could forget, just for a moment, the weight she carried upon her back.
It had been there for so many years, growing heavier day by day.
“What if we don’t find the new general, Zahn?” she asked, looking up at his face. “What if all of this has been for nothing, and Exonia fades from existence? My true home... I’ll never be able to call it mine.”
“It’s already yours, Nor,” Zahn said. “And you will succeed.”
He had the kindest eyes. He’d always looked at her with dedication and loyalty, since the moment he’d pulled her from the rubble as a child. As if she truly had always been his queen, even when she didn’t yet wear a crown.
“Nexus is nearly complete, and even if we manage to amplify Valen’s compulsion forever, long after he and I are gone... What’s the point, if we can’t access those weapons?”
What if I become just like my mother? she wanted to ask. What if I’m a failure far worse than she ever was?
If I fail, Exonia will be lost to the mists of time and space.
But she couldn’t bring herself to utter those words. That fear. Saying them aloud would be like giving her fear wings, allowing it to take flight and carry her away.
“Exonia has waited a long time for their queen,” Zahn whispered, his fingertips running up and down the small of her back. “They will not have to wait much longer. I’m certain of it. You’ve conquered so much in your life, Nor, but you’ve still so much left to live. So much left to make yours. With Valen’s compulsion, with Darai’s guidance, with the loyalty of Mirabel behind you... We will succeed. Together. For you.”
Nor sighed, her face pressed against his chest. “You think too highly of me.”
“No.” Zahn angled her face upward, to look at him. “You are my queen. But more than that, you are my heart. There is nothing I won’t do, Nor, to help you succeed in your life’
s calling. And if rooting out Arachnid, if rooting out this estranged general, is what you wish...then I will see it done.”
“You’re too pure for this galaxy,” Nor told him.
Zahn raised a playful brow. “I can think of a few ways to change your mind about that.”
He pressed a tender kiss to her lips, warmth flooding through her just as the doors to the great room burst open.
Nor sighed and pulled herself away from Zahn, turning toward whatever responsibility had found its way to her. It seemed impossible to find time alone with Zahn these days—or even time by herself, for that matter.
But it was only Valen, walking inside, tension in his thin shoulders. “What’s going on?” he asked. “I felt something happen while I was away.” He ran the back of his sleeve across his nose, as if he were rubbing away dirt that Nor couldn’t see. “Are you alright? I thought I heard you calling, through our link.”
“I did call,” Nor snapped, annoyed. “I needed you, and you wouldn’t answer.”
Valen looked taken aback, and Nor immediately felt guilty for lashing out at him. She knew the work he was doing was important to their cause—perhaps more than ever, now. But sometimes she wished he was more present for her out here, instead of in his mind.
It was hard to feel connected to a ghost.
“Nice of you to join us, finally,” Zahn said, pulling away from Nor with a sigh of his own. But he smiled at Valen all the same as Nor sat back down on the couch, allowing Zahn to relay the events that had taken place while Valen was likely traipsing the halls of his mind castle.
She felt so tired. And yet Nor knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep until they discovered the identity of the general and found a way to take back what was hers.
“Well, that’s...” Valen’s words trailed off as Zahn finished his recap. He slumped down onto one of the couches, looking weary. “That’s just great.”
“Not the word I’d use to describe it,” Nor said. “But now that you’re caught up, we have a lot to discuss.”
Zahn nodded and said, “I have to go check on a few things, so I’ll leave you to it.” Then he pressed a kiss to Nor’s forehead, leaning in to whisper, “Later, I’d like some time with you alone.”
Her cheeks heated with pleasure as she watched him walk briskly away, a smile on his lips as he exited the room.
“So tell me, sister,” Valen said, as he leaned back into the cushions. “Why can’t we just blast this fool into bits, like my dear father did to Xen Ptera during the Cataclysm?”
Sometimes, at night, Nor still dreamed of the horrors that had befallen her home planet. The crushing decay that Xen Ptera still suffered from. She’d evacuated her people in the days just after her crowning, sending ships to bring them to the many flourishing planets across Mirabel. But she still felt a burning hatred for the Unified Systems because of what Cyprian had done when she thought of how long Xen Ptera had suffered. The planet might never come back to life again.
“That was my initial thought,” Nor said. “But we can’t destroy Sora, even if Arachnid is somehow still there, though I doubt he lingered long after sending his message.” Nor massaged her temples. “It turns out we can’t access the nuclear arsenal while the new general remains in power. Did you ever, in all your years spent around your father, overhear him speaking about the possibility of an heir?”
Valen shook his head, his eyes darkening. “No. He never chose. It was supposed to be Kalee, but when she died... There was no one else. He certainly didn’t want me.”
Bastard, Nor thought. She was glad Valen had been the one to drive the blade in deep.
“And on his deathbed?” Nor asked. “When he escaped from Ucatoria? The leaders of Mirabel were dead. Who would he have chosen in those final moments? Can you think of anyone he would have turned to?”
Valen shrugged. “I have no idea, Nor. My father had plenty of comrades, but he had plenty of enemies, too. I was gone for two years, Nor. There’s no telling what relationships he made during that time. He traveled all across Mirabel, always making new acquaintances, forging alliances. And even if he had someone in mind... I’m surprised he would have given the command, or transferred that level of galaxy-wide power to anyone. There’s no one my father trusted to run things but himself.”
“But he did choose someone,” Nor insisted. “The fail-safe demands that there be a leader, and according to the system, there is one. But it’s not me.” Her body was tensing up again, that chill returning as she thought of all the weapons on the capital planets that were just waiting for her to use them. To blast through the Void and reach Exonia.
And yet she could not use them.
Even when Nexus was completed, she still wouldn’t be able to use them.
To be so close, yet doomed to fail... The thought made Nor sick.
Valen yawned—not from boredom, but from that pure exhaustion Nor was so used to seeing in him these days. “I could look into the minds of everyone beneath my compulsion. Perhaps I’ll find this new general, and I can command him or her to hand over the access.”
Nor felt her spirits lifting at the possibility. “Yes, see what you can find.” Then her heart sank again as another thought occurred to her. “But if they’re Unaffected, we’ll be out of luck. And we’ll never reach Exonia.”
“So close,” Valen said, echoing her earlier thoughts. “And yet so far.”
“Thank you for the reminder, little brother,” Nor retorted. “We’ll work day and night. We’ll search every corner of this damned galaxy until we find the usurper. Until we force them to give me full control of my rightful reign.”
“And then we’ll finally see our true home,” Valen said quietly, staring into the fireplace as if he were gazing through the Void to Exonia.
Darai had grown up there. He’d spent his earliest days wandering that strange, formless place. He’d often told her about a great sea of color, the swirling abyss that had allowed him and her mother passage to Mirabel.
Nor had seen only a glimpse of it—a memory that was not her own. Her mother, with her own gift of compulsion, had found a way to send Nor that flash of memory before her death.
Nor had never seen anything like it. So other, so blessed by the light of the Godstars.
She’d tear open that space between worlds, soon enough. Darai had promised her, all these years, that it could be done. No thanks to your own power, Nor thought with a fleeting sense of sadness. Because her power, her blood, wasn’t strong enough. But Valen’s was.
That was Nor’s own demon to battle—the constant disappointment in herself, for not commanding enough of their mother’s power. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, that uneven passing of Klaren’s ability. She was the firstborn, and she’d expected, as her mother and Darai had, that most of it would have gone to her.
But Nor knew better than most that looking upon the past and wishing for a different outcome was futile.
Sometimes, she wished she could be Valen. Switch places with him for a day, and feel what it was like to reach the greatest heights of compulsion. Valen was the strongest person Nor had ever known—so strong that Darai could no longer train him. The old man had stopped even trying only weeks after Nor pulled Valen from his cold, empty cell in Lunamere, taking to the shadows instead.
He was likely jealous, in much the same way that Nor sometimes was. But she knew everyone had their place. Valen was their power source; Nor was the face of their mission. And Darai was indispensable as well, with all his knowledge of Exonia.
“There’s something else,” Valen said softly.
Nor looked up at him, raising her brows in a silent question.
“You know I visit the castle in my mind quite often.”
It probably sounded silly to anyone who didn’t understand how deeply he was speaking the truth. Valen wasn’t one for jokes—Nor had learned this about him ea
rly on. It was one of the things that connected them, besides the obvious. It had taken time and effort to develop a relationship that existed outside of their shared blood.
After all the years they’d spent apart, she’d often wondered if they would ever have any sort of bond beyond the compulsion. But little by little, she’d grown to know Valen. He was a creature of complexity; a young man who lived in constant darkness, yet found such fascination with painting the light. And she could no longer imagine a life without her brother.
“Yes,” Nor told him. “I’m aware.”
“I think...it’s beginning to take its toll,” Valen said carefully.
“In what way?” she asked, looking him over intently. His golden eyes were dull, with dark circles marring the skin beneath them, and Nor felt a twinge of guilt, as she often did, for what she’d done to him in Lunamere. For the massive weight she’d placed on his mind, with all the energy the compulsion required.
“Today, when I left the castle... There was a flicker, of sorts.”
“A flicker?” Nor echoed, confusion sweeping through her.
Valen nodded. The firelight illuminated the shadows beneath his eyes.
He needed rest. Darai had warned her of this—that the power would demand a price. But Nor hadn’t wanted to ask Valen about it, for fear of discovering just how bad it truly was.
Her stomach clenched as she looked at him, so burdened. Perhaps he simply needed a reminder of what they were both working toward. For if Valen faltered now, when they were just beginning to feel the pressures of their mission...what would she do without him?
“Can I show you again, Valen? Our home?”
He nodded.
Nor closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She felt his mind reaching for hers, and as their power collided, Nor was suddenly transported away from her seat on the couch and into the recesses of her own mind, into that mental tunnel that sat between them, a doorway at the opposite end.
It was there, through a crack in the door, that Nor sent the vision she’d once been given from her mother. The memory that Klaren had sent down to Xen Ptera, when Nor and her father were lying crushed beneath the palace rubble.
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